


You Are in Love

by MorningStarJoy



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Chapter 9 & Past Spoilers, F/M, Falling In Love, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Seteth Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22799470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorningStarJoy/pseuds/MorningStarJoy
Summary: Intimacy. The word bounced around inside Byleth’s skull. She had never considered intimacy with anybody before, had never been even remotely interested in it, and she had certainly never expected the idea to be in her mind when in the presence of Seteth, of all people, but here she was. The Byleth that had first arrived at the monastery and just met the pretentious green-haired man for the first time would’ve thought that this scene was preposterous, impossible even. But things had changed, slowly over time, hard to see with the naked eye. That is, until Byleth resurfaced with Flayn safe and sound, and the way Seteth looked at the untrustworthy mercenary changed from then on.A multi-chapter Setleth fic inspired by the song You Are in Love by Taylor Swift, starting at the night of the ball. Each chapter will cover part of a verse.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Seteth
Comments: 49
Kudos: 122





	1. Buttons on a Coat

**Author's Note:**

> Finally finished Three Houses and I'm in love with Seteth so have this fic! Also be warned for story spoilers as well as spoilers for Seteth and Flayn's paralogue/support. Enjoy!

Byleth stood in the Goddess Tower, gazing out the window at the stars twinkling in the dark sky. She took in a deep breath of the crisp night air as a breeze brushed by. While it had been fun to watch her students having the time of their lives at the ball, and it was even fun to share a dance with Claude, it was nice to have a break from all the hustle and bustle. She much preferred staying on the sidelines and watching anyway.

She sighed as her mind took another turn to a specific subject. There was, however, one man who she particularly would’ve liked to dance with, the thought of such a thing releasing butterflies in her stomach. But it didn’t happen, as he was far too busy making sure no boys were making unwelcome advances on his daughter to take notice of Byleth’s longing glances from afar.

At least, she had thought he was paying her no mind. In truth she simply didn’t see the green eyes on her whenever she wasn’t looking, didn’t feel them follow her as she left to head to the tower alone. She didn’t hear him excuse himself from Hanneman’s company, didn’t hear the footsteps that echoed across the floor as he now approached her from behind.

“Professor.” Byleth jumped, hand moving instinctually to where she usually had the Sword of the Creator at her side before remembering she didn’t have it with her tonight. Cursing dance formalities, instead her hand moved to the dagger she always kept at her belt, and she whirled around to press the flat side of the blade against the throat of whoever had gotten the advantage on her.

Determined blue eyes met surprised green as Byleth found herself face-to-face with the very man who had just been on her mind. The same man who had been on her mind all too much lately, and who she had been secretly hoping to catch a moment with all night.

“Seteth.” Byleth blinked in surprise, not believing her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Seteth shifted uncomfortably, the blade still pressed against his throat as he replied, “I figured that I would make sure there were no... enamored students loitering here.” A total lie, Seteth knew. But Byleth didn’t have to know.

“Oh. Well, as of now there are no enamored individuals on the premises.” It took some self-control for him to hold back a laugh at the way she gave her statement like she was delivering a mission report to Lady Rhea and himself. Or maybe that was the only way she saw him, as a man who she delivered her reports to at the end of the month and nothing more. The laughter died in his throat as he suddenly felt very foolish for seeking her out.

Byleth stood still, not knowing what to do or say now that the man that she wanted to see was finally in front of her. She raked her mind, desperate for some kind of interesting small talk, but came up empty.

“Um, Professor...do you mind...” A gentle tug at her dangling sleeve brought her attention to the fact that she still had her dagger pressed to his throat.

“Oh!” She quickly pulled back, sheathing the dagger as Seteth absent-mindedly rubbed at his throat. “I’m so sorry, Seteth.”

“No, it’s fine. I should’ve known better than to try and sneak up on the Ashen Demon.” His lips turned up in a small smirk that, while she hadn’t seen him do it before, seemed so easy and natural. And more than that, it was offered only to Byleth, a fact that made her stomach do pleasant flips.

They both turned to the window then, looking out at the sky and standing in an awkward silence, neither person knowing quite what to say to break it. Eventually, the silence was broken by a small cough from Seteth before he spoke.

“Professor, I... wanted to apologize.” His words came out of the darkness and caused Byleth to look at him. It was hard to see his face in the low light, but something about him almost seemed...nervous?

“Apologize?” Byleth repeated, confused. “For what?”

Seteth shifted uncomfortably, all too aware of her piercing gaze fixated on his face. Despite the sincerity in his heart he couldn’t bring himself to meet that gaze. “I believe that I’ve been unduly harsh to you ever since you arrived at the monastery.”

Byleth turned to face him fully, leading him to turn and face her as well. “Seteth, we already talked about this. You had your reasons to be untrusting. I completely understand. I wouldn’t have trusted myself either.”

“But even after you saved Flayn, I still treated you coldly. For that I have no excuse. It was just...” His words trailed off as his mind wandered to the memory of Byleth and Flayn side by side at the pier. He was silent as he remembered how his heart, which had seemed to have turned to ice over the centuries, thawed and warmed at the sight of Byleth’s grim determination to catch the fish Flayn wanted, and the happiness in Flayn’s eyes when Byleth succeeded.

While he hadn’t admitted it to himself, feelings had begun to surface for him that he had not felt in a very long time. But those thoughts led down a dangerous road, one he was sure Byleth was not interested in walking. Why would she be, after all the times he had been so dismissive and cold towards her?

“Just...?” Byleth’s voice brought him crashing back to the present and the circumstance he was currently in.

“It’s just that you’re important to...” He stopped. _Me,_ his thoughts finished for him. _You’re important to me._ “...to Flayn.” He finished lamely, hedging out at the last moment.

Byleth deflated at the words, having expected something completely different. A futile hope, it seemed.

Seteth’s eyes wandered over her face. Did she seem...disappointed? No, no, his eyes were playing tricks on him in the low light. He would not allow himself to walk down that road, or even briefly entertain those thoughts. It was ridiculous, the notion that maybe, just maybe, her heart warmed when she looked at him too.

Byleth turned to face the window again, and as she did so missing the look of utter longing on Seteth’s face as he drank in her features in the dark room. A look that after centuries of feeling next to nothing, was meant only for her.

Seteth didn’t know what possessed him in that moment; if it was the wine that he had drunk, the sudden wash of moonlight over her face, or the way she turned and gave him the smallest of smiles, a sight that was so rarely seen and here it was, offered just to him. “...And me.” The words came falling out of his mouth, tripping over each other as his heart began to pound in his chest. He could hear its beating in his ears as he realized he was starting down that road, the one he had just resolved to stay off of, but it was too late now. The words kept coming, despite his logical, pragmatic mind. Damn that wine. “You’re important to me as well.”

Byleth’s eyes widened, heat creeping up her neck and reaching her cheeks as she found herself entranced by the earnest look in his eyes and the uncharacteristic softness in his usually stern voice. The warmth on her cheeks was followed by another, totally unfamiliar warmth as Seteth gently took her hand and brought it up to his lips, placing a soft, feather-light kiss there.

She idly wondered what her heart would be doing right now if it was beating. Seteth met her gaze and held it as he slowly lowered her hand from his lips, holding onto it long enough to be past a formal gesture, but letting go before it crossed into intimacy.

 _Intimacy. Intimacy._ The word bounced around inside Byleth’s skull. She had never considered intimacy with anybody before, had never been even remotely interested in it, and she had certainly never expected the idea to be in her mind when in the presence of Seteth, of all people, but here she was. The Byleth that had first arrived at the monastery and just met the pretentious green-haired man for the first time would’ve thought that this scene was preposterous, impossible even. But things had changed, slowly over time, hard to see with the naked eye. That is, until Byleth resurfaced with Flayn safe and sound, and the way Seteth looked at the untrustworthy mercenary changed from then on.

“Then...” Seteth’s voice brought her back to the present and she watched helplessly as he gave a small nod and bow before turning, his robes sweeping out behind him as he began to walk away. _No._ Byleth thought. _No, not yet._ She wasn’t ready for this to end.

Before she knew what she was doing, Byleth had reached out, a familiar warmth of magic flowing through her fingers as she watched the world around her slow at first, then pause. Then Seteth’s steps began to reverse, time moving backwards until he was back standing before her, his lips resting on the back of her hand once more. Byleth kept reversing time until the moment just before that, right before he took her hand. Her fingers glowed with the magic of the Divine Pulse as she kept time frozen for a moment and looked into his eyes, that deep green color as bottomless as the ocean.

 _What are you doing?_ Byleth heard Sothis’ familiar, disapproving voice hiss. _This power is for battle, not for reliving whatever foolish romantic moments that you please!_

Byleth ignored her mind’s companion as she let go of the Divine Pulse and watched as time suddenly flowed forward again, watched as Seteth grasped her hand and brought it to the soft warmth of his lips once more. But this time, before he could let go, she stepped forward, her other hand reaching up to clasp his between both of hers. She watched the surprise flash across his face at the bold move and how that shock grew as she quietly admitted, “You’re important to me too.”

It was suddenly very quiet in that dark tower, but something spoke through the silence, a feeling hovering that Byleth had never felt before, a truth that she was not yet privy to.

Seteth heard it, felt it too, especially as he watched her move closer, close enough that he could see the small flickers of emotion across her face. He wasn’t sure if those flickers of emotion had always been there and he had just never been close enough to see, or if perhaps it was a new development. He could feel the roughness of her battle-hardened hands, feel her warmth as she now stood so close to him, see every single button on her coat. He realized then that her presence was more intoxicating than any wine that he had drunk.

“For a jacket as impractical as yours, I’m surprised to see the functionality of buttons.”

Byleth blinked at his breathless attempt at a joke as she glanced down to her attire. Soft laughter bubbled from her throat, a sound so endearing that it made Seteth melt just a little bit, a smile gracing his lips as he joined her laughter with a low chuckle of his own.

They stood in that beautiful silence once more, captivated by the light of each other’s eyes in the moonlight. Seteth’s eyes flicked down to her lips for the briefest moment before he cleared his throat and took a step back, bowing down slightly and holding out his hand.

“Professor, would you do me the honor of joining me for a dance?”

Byleth’s heart warmed at the sight of the stoic man letting down his walls in front of her and inviting her in, a sight she had only hoped for but never expected to see. She smiled mischievously at him. “Only if you stop calling me Professor.”

Seteth hesitated just slightly before locking gazes with her and whispering lowly, “Byleth.”

Her stomach did flips as she watched her name leave his lips for...was that the first time he had ever actually said her name? She realized with shock that it was, and her chest fluttered with a pleasant feeling she didn’t recognize as she reached out and took his hand once more.

Together they slowly danced to the faint music wafting from the distant ballroom, their feet stepping across the moonbeams that swept across the ground and lit up the inside of the tower. A sweet, serene moment that both had been hoping to share with the other for longer than either would care to admit. Byleth rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes as she listened to his steady heartbeat, an unfamiliar and soothing experience. Seteth rested his cheek on the top of her head as they swayed in the dark, realizing just how much he had missed the embrace of another.

It wasn’t much. It was certainly no proof that she would, or even could ever return his budding feelings. But he saw enough.

* * *

**One look, dark room, meant just for you.**

**Time moved too fast, you play it back.**

**Buttons on a coat, lighthearted joke.**

**No proof, not much. But you saw enough.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been quite a while since I've written a fic, so I hope you enjoyed! I highly recommend listening to the song because it's gorgeous. More chapters to come :)


	2. Tea at Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth provides Byleth with some company on a special day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If only I could write my essays with the fervor that I write fanfiction. As always, warnings of major spoilers from Chapter 9 onward.

Byleth sighed as she turned to another essay from the pile sitting on her desk. She counted herself lucky that the Blue Lions had many students who did their homework thoughtfully. Dimitri, Annette and Ashe especially had exceptional grades, with Ingrid and surprisingly Sylvain not far behind. Sylvain always held back on his essays though, as he did on the one that she just marked with a B-. 

Seteth didn’t like the use of pluses and minuses in her grading. He said that the other professors didn’t use it and that it was better to keep the grading system uniform across all houses. To that Byleth had always said screw that, much to his chagrin. She just felt there wasn’t enough accuracy using pure letter grades. 

Byleth suddenly found herself missing the presence of the strict ally to the archbishop. Since Jeralt’s death, Byleth had taken to secluding herself from the presence of others. She had barely left her room except to go to Jeralt’s office to get his journal, when Dimitri confronted her and offered her much needed words of support and encouragement. Since then she had gone back to teaching her classes regularly, and instead of confining herself to her quarters to do nothing but mourn, she was now throwing herself fully into her work, leaving little room for anything else. 

Speaking of that day, Byleth’s eyes wandered down to the desk drawer where Jeralt’s journal currently lay. After considering for a moment, she pulled it out of the drawer and set it down on the desk next to her calendar. Flipping through the pages, her eyes scanned the lines until she landed on the entry she was looking for. 

_Day 20 of the_ _Horsebow_ _Moon._ Byleth’s fingers trailed over the date etched in her father’s hand, before her eyes moved back to her own calendar. Written in her own hand on Day 9 of the Guardian Moon were the words “my birthday”. 

_Day 9 of the Guardian Moon is today!_ _So i_ _t would’ve been your birthday?_ Sothis asked as she floated in before Byleth. 

Byleth only nodded solemnly in return. It was strange, to find out something that she had thought to be true for so long was a lie. That went for a lot of things about her past, she supposed. Her father seemed to have kept many secrets, and there were probably even more that she didn’t know about that weren’t disclosed in his journal. 

Another sigh escaped her as she picked up her quill and scratched out the words marking that day as her birthday. She absentmindedly flipped back through the previous months on the calendar, stopping when something in particular caught her eye. On the day after her father’s death, on Day 27 of the Ethereal Moon, next to the words “Saint Cichol’s Day”—which had already been on the calendar before it was given to her, she didn’t care enough for church dates to right them down herself—were her own words reading “Seteth’s birthday”. 

She frowned down at the words in front of her. While reeling from her father’s death, she had totally forgotten about Seteth’s birthday. It was rather unfortunate that it happened to be right after the day her father had passed. She found herself wishing selfishly that his birthday was later, so she could’ve at least done something to celebrate it with him. 

Byleth hadn’t really seen Seteth since the night before father’s death, at the ball. She couldn't believe that at that time she had felt so lighthearted, carefree and hopeful. Most of those feelings had been crushed out of her in recent weeks. Still, she missed the stoic man's company, and the way it made everything in the world seem a bit less horrible, somehow. 

“Professor.” At first Byleth thought that the voice of Seteth was speaking in her head, probably to reprimand her on her grading methods, but the sound of her classroom door closing told her otherwise. 

Her head lifted up from where it was bent over her desk and, sure enough, there stood Seteth in her currently empty classroom. 

“Seteth.” Byleth tried and failed to hide the surprise in her typically emotionless voice. She couldn’t decide if she was surprised because he rarely came to see her in her classroom, or if it was because he had just been on her mind. She quickly closed Jeralt’s journal and placed it back inside her drawer.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Seteth enough to share the truth with him. On the contrary, she was worried that sharing the contents of the journal with him would reverse all the hard-earned trust she had gained from _him._ If he found out that she was actually the baby who supposedly died in the fire 21 years before, would he think that she knew and had lied this whole time? Would his soft gaze towards her harden, his warm exterior growing cold as he became disinterested in her once more? 

Byleth cleared her throat, pushing the thoughts out of her head as she closed the drawer and tried to adopt her usual flat affect before continuing to speak. “To what do I owe this visit?” 

“Flayn informed me that you haven’t been taking dinner. I...” He trailed off, faltering as he averted his eyes and cleared his throat before trying again. “...she was concerned.” 

“Ah.” Despite what he had said about it being due to Flayn’s concern, she still felt a warmth in her chest at the sight of him standing there before her, a tray of food in his hands. He walked forward and set the tray carefully on her desk, right next to the stack of essays that didn’t seem to be getting any shorter. Seteth glanced over them briefly, a frown appearing on his face as he picked up Sylvain’s recently graded paper. 

“The Gautier boy deserves a C.” Byleth sighed dejectedly in response. She almost found the situation humorous as his reaction was just what she imagined it would be in her head. 

“Sylvain is intelligent and the ideas are there. He just needs some encouragement. I don’t know why he holds back.” 

Seteth “hmphed” as he set the essay back down on its pile. He then reached over and replaced her nearly burnt down candle with one that he had carried in with the food. She blinked at the sight of her burnt candle, having not noticed it until then. 

“What time is it?” Byleth asked. 

“I believe it’s nearing midnight. I was able to get some food from the kitchen just before it shut down.” 

Byleth set down her quill and rubbed her eyes, realizing just how tired and stiff she was as she stretched her muscles. Seteth’s eyes followed her arms as they flexed before he coughed and looked away, a light pink dusting his cheeks. He busied himself with pouring the tea from the pot he had brought with the food, a small spark of electricity passing between their hands as he gave the cup of tea to her. 

Byleth idly wondered if he felt it too, and by the way he looked intensely at her, and how he hadn’t let go of his hold on the cup and her hand yet, she guessed that he had. 

Finally, after a long moment, Seteth let go and averted his eyes, letting Byleth breathe again, unaware that she had even been holding her breath to begin with. She brought the steaming tea to her lips and took a small, tentative sip, pleasantly surprised when she tasted the familiar soft flavor of Crescent-Moon Tea. 

She had only drank Four-Spice Blend when having tea with Seteth, knowing that it was his favorite. How did he even know hers? 

“How did you—” 

“I asked some of your students what your favorite tea was.” The easy reply cut her off before she could even finish the question. Byleth’s lips curled up into a small smile. The thought of Seteth going around, seeking out her students with the sole purpose of finding her preferred flavor of tea filled her with a warmth that had nothing do with the tea she was drinking. 

“Thank you.” She said quietly, looking down at the plate of Garreg Mach Meat Pie, her favorite food at the monastery, knowing that it must have been a similar situation which led to him choosing it. Her eyes then landed on a second empty teacup sitting on the tray. 

“Of course.” Seteth said. There was a reason that he came here, a fact that the weight of the small box in his pocket reminded him of. But now he suddenly felt very self-conscious, standing before her as she solemnly graded papers and seemed to barely take notice of his presence. “I hope you have a good night, Professor.” He nodded respectfully, finding himself once again chickening out of what he truly wanted to do as he turned and started heading towards the door. 

It took all of the self-control Byleth had to stop herself from going after him as she called out, “Wait!” 

Seteth instantly stopped at the sound of her voice, waiting to hear what she had left to say, half-hoping it would be a request to stay, and half-reprimanding himself for his foolish feelings. The weight of the box in his pocket felt much heavier than it really was. There's no way she would ever— 

“Would you like to stay and have a cup?” 

The word “stay” leaving her lips caused his heart to leap up into his throat, a hope he had tried to dim ever since that night in the tower now starting to take flight in his chest. He turned to see her half-standing from her seat, hand reached out towards him. The sight thawed his stern features and sent a warm smile across his face, a look that made him seem much younger and carefree than he was. 

“I would be delighted to.” 

They sat across from each other at her desk, sipping their tea in comfortable silence. One cup turned into two, then three, then the entire pot of tea. Seteth had taken up assisting Byleth with grading her papers—using only pure letter grades, of course. 

“Raphael doesn’t deserve a D!” Byleth protested upon seeing the grade on the paper written by her recent transfer student. 

“He goes on a tangent about food for two paragraphs. In an essay about the importance of equipment upkeep.” 

“Is he saying that the energy from the food is necessary in order to do adequate work?” 

“Well...yes—" 

“Then it’s a C-.” 

“Damn it, Byleth.” 

Byleth looked up in surprise, a smile forming on her face and a warmth spreading through her chest at the pleasant sound of her name leaving his lips. A laugh left her, something that hadn’t happened since her father’s passing, and had not happened often even before that. She realized it was a wonderful thing to feel. 

Seteth looked back at her in equal surprise before smiling at the sound of her laughter, feeling proud that he was the one to elicit it. 

Once the papers were finished being graded, the tea was gone and the candle snuffed, they found themselves slowly making their way across the grounds in the moonlight, heading towards Byleth’s quarters, but in no rush to get there any time soon. 

“So...” Byleth started, breaking the silence that had grown between them. Seteth looked towards her, waiting for her to continue. “I was looking at my calendar earlier.” 

Seteth nodded. “I saw.” 

Byleth’s head whipped towards him. “You did?” Had he seen the date of his birthday written in it? Her face began to warm at the thought. 

Seteth watched silently as Byleth’s pale cheeks suddenly turned an endearing red color. The corner of his lips turned up in a small smile as he recalled seeing the words “Seteth’s birthday” written on the calendar. “How did you know when my birthday was?” 

Byleth’s cheeks turned an even darker shade of red, if that was even possible. “It came up one day when I was fishing with Flayn. I felt it was important to write down” 

“Ah.” Seteth didn’t know how to reply to her statement about his birthday being important, his own cheeks now turning a shade similar to hers. He smiled to himself, feeling a little giddy at her words, despite his tightly restrained emotions. 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t get to celebrate it with you.” 

Seteth blinked in surprise at her statement. “Byleth, your father had just passed. I never would have expected you to. To be honest, celebrating it isn’t really as important to me as it is to Flayn. We didn’t do much this year anyway, in light of what happened to Jeralt. It affected everybody at the monastery quite a deal, including us.”

Byleth nodded before smiling at him. “It makes sense Flayn would want to celebrate it. Your daughter loves you very much.” 

Seteth smiled back at her. “She is the most important thing in my life.” He found that it felt nice to have Byleth know the truth about Flayn being his daughter, nice to have somebody other than Lady Rhea who knew about it. Byleth was much easier to talk to than Rhea was, and he much preferred to go to Byleth for companionship, a fact that he felt he should’ve been more shocked about than he actually was. 

He had steadily gotten used to Byleth’s presence over time, had come to yearn for it even over barely seeing her the past few weeks, something that he reprimanded himself over. _She had been mourning her father’s death, you lovesick fool_. Seteth knew all too well what it was like to lose loved ones, as he had lost many over the centuries, but Jeralt was the first person close to her who she had lost. He was just glad that she wasn’t alone, that she had the students who cared for her so much to help her through. And he hoped that just maybe his own presence somehow helped too. 

“Have you...found out much in your searches?” 

Seteth turned his attention back to the blue-haired woman currently walking by his side. “Not much, I’m afraid. It's mainly speculation for now.” 

“What do you speculate?” 

He sighed. “It’s only a theory...” He hadn’t intended for the conversation to go in this direction, and he didn’t want to get Byleth’s hopes up for an answer if it turned out to be wrong. But the hopeful look in her eyes as she waited for him to continue spurred him to keep talking, despite his hesitations. “Both Tomas and Monica have gone missing at one time or another. Monica is said to have undergone dramatic personality changes upon her return. As if, perhaps, the real Monica had been killed and replaced by an imposter. Thinking of it like that, it is possible that this Solon has been impersonating Tomas for some time.” 

Byleth nodded. She had been suspecting something similar, especially about Monica due to her reported personality change. “I had been thinking along similar lines.” 

“I still do not understand how they managed such a convincing change of appearance, though...” He shook his head. “Forgive me, I did not mean to bring up a sensitive topic.” 

Now it was Byleth’s turn to shake her head. “No, I wanted to know. Thank you for telling me. I cherish your insight.” 

Seteth blinked in surprise before nodding in thanks. “I appreciate the sentiment. I find your opinion important as well. I’ll try to keep you updated as progress continues.” 

Byleth offered a smile that was small, but reached her eyes. “Thank you, Seteth. You’ve been nothing but kind to me today.” 

“After being nothing but cold to you for so long, it’s the least I could do.” He was silent for a moment before adding quietly, “I am deeply sorry for Jeralt’s death. I know well what it is like to lose a loved one.” 

Byleth’s smile turned sad at that statement. “I know you have,” She responded just as quietly, remembering the forlorn look on his face that day on the Rhodos Coast, when he confided in her about his late wife. “Thank you.” 

Silence grew between them again as Byleth’s mind turned to that day. Her brows furrowed as she remembered something. “Your wife was buried at a monument for Saint Cichol, wasn’t she?” 

Seteth nodded in affirmation. “Correct.” 

“Isn’t your birthday on Saint Cichol’s Day?” 

Seteth stumbled a bit, coughing into his hand. Byleth reached a hand out to steady him, concerned. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes, fine.” He waved her away, “And yes, my birthday is on Saint Cichol’s Day.” 

“He must be an important figure to you, then.” 

Seteth rubbed the back of his neck before replying, “I prefer Saint Cethleann, actually.” 

Byleth’s brows furrowed again she as she remembered something else. “Isn’t Cethleann Cichol’s daughter?” Seteth started coughing again, leading Byleth to rest a hand on his back. “Are you sure you’re alright?” 

“Yes, I’m fine. It must just be the cold.” 

Byleth frowned. “Let’s hurry then.” 

It was quiet once more as they passed by the pier, the gentle moonlight reflecting in the deep blue, rippling waters. All of a sudden, Seteth’s steps stopped as his face turned up towards the sky. “Look up.” He said quietly. 

Byleth did just that, their shoulders brushing briefly as she was graced with the sight of the cloudless night sky, the stars winking down at them, much like the night they shared together at the ball. Their shoulders remained just barely touching, neither making any move to pull away from the contact as they gazed up at the beautiful sky, falling into comfortable silence once more. 

At least, she assumed he was looking up as well, until a coldness pressed against her neck, causing her to look down in surprise. The starlight reflected off of a delicate silver chain now lying around her neck. She examined the charm hanging on the end, a simple silver sword with a small emerald embedded in the hilt. 

Now the reason for his visit clicked in her head, his whisper only confirming her suspicion. “Happy birthday, Byleth.” 

Butterflies flew in her stomach just as tears sprung to her eyes. It confused her at first, since the only experience she had with crying was when her father died. This was a completely different sensation, though, she realized as a smile of pure, unfiltered happiness crossed her face. 

She didn’t think anybody knew when her birthday was. The only person who she thought knew was her father, and he was gone now. _Not to mention he lied about it, and today’s not even you’re real birthday,_ a cynical voice in her mind reminded her, but she shook it away. Now was not the time for cynicism. 

“Thank you, Seteth.” She whispered back to him, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears as they locked with his own green ones, a color more dazzling and captivating than the emerald that sat in her new necklace. She assumed that his visit was due to a concern for her mourning process over Jeralt’s death, and maybe it partially was, but it was also to provide her a company on her birthday that she never would have sought out on her own, a fact which he knew well. She had never felt so incredibly touched. 

And when he smiled softly in return, that softness reaching his beautiful eyes and turning into a look akin to fondness, she didn’t need the teasing voice of Sothis to tell her what she heard in the silence that night of the ball, what she saw through the darkness, what she felt now as he walked her home, as his shoulder touched hers. There was no proof, and it was only one touch, but she felt enough. 

And yet, as she stood in her room long after parting ways with Seteth, her hand on the shoulder that had brushed with his and her necklace resting around her neck, Sothis’ voice floated in anyway. 

_You are in love._ Sothis teased, smiling mischievously at her. _True love._

The smile on Byleth’s face grew into a small grin at the truth of the statement, unbelievable as it was.

She was in love. 

* * *

**Small talk, he drives. Coffee at midnight.**

**The light reflects the chain on your neck.**

**He says looks up, and your shoulders brush.**

**No proof, one touch, but you felt enough.**

**You can hear it in the silence,**

**You can feel it on the way home,**

**You can see it with the lights out,**

**You are in love. True love.** **You are in love.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up a looooot longer during the editing process lol. Also @nintendo meet me in the Walmart parking lot for putting Seteth's birthday as the day after Jeralt's death. Don't even get to have birthday tea with my green-haired husband.  
> Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed! Thank you so much for the comments and kudos on the first chapter, you guys made my day. Also, check me out as morning-star-joy on tumblr if you are so inclined! :)


	3. Your Fears and Your Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small warning for the mention of blood and character death in this chapter. Nothing gory, just enough to give the fic the T rating, but wanted to put a warning nonetheless.

_This is ridiculous._ For once the chiding voice in Byleth’s head was not Sothis’, but her own. The mercenary-turned-professor had just awoken from a cruel nightmare that sent her stumbling out of her door. She desperately hoped that nobody was still awake and around to see her; she didn’t know if she could forgive herself if one of her students saw their esteemed professor in that kind of state. 

The nightmare still played itself over and over again in her mind’s eye as her bare feet took her across the silent grounds. She didn't even know where she was going until she realized she was crossing the empty main hall.

She knew she should just turn around and head back to her room before anybody saw her. However, the image her nightmare had seared into her mind kept her walking as she headed up the staircase to the second floor. It was a common nightmare those days, but for some reason it had hit her harder that night than most nights. It might have been due to the trauma of watching Sylvain fall in the recent battle, but luckily the Divine Pulse allowed her to rewind time and save him. Still, while the Divine Pulse erased events that happened, it did nothing to erase the memories in her mind of watching those she cared about fall. And all those images traced back to the one of her father dying, the one time she wasn't able to change the hands of fate, and she grew increasingly terrified that one day another person she cared about would fall and there would be nothing she could do about it.

Byleth rounded the corner leading down the hall of offices, lost deep in thought. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a faint flicker of light curling out from under Seteth’s office door, making her pause.

She stood like a ghost in the hallway, staring at the light dancing across the ground, suddenly overcome with the urge to run into the room, collapse in his arms and tell him of all the fears that ran through her mind. She scoffed at the idea. Even though she knew that they had been growing closer over the past weeks, and she doubted that he would coldly turn her away like he probably would have just months before, she still hesitated to go to him. She didn't want to burden him with her fears just because he seemed to enjoy her company. Besides, he was a busy man, and he must have been busy if he was still in his office that late.

Byleth’s hands played absentmindedly with the necklace that had gained permanent residence around her neck ever since the day Seteth gifted it to her, staring longingly at his closed door. Since the necklace wasn't flashy most people hadn’t noticed it. The only people who did notice were Mercedes, who complimented her on it, and Dorothea, who winked and asked teasingly if it was from a man, which had made Byleth blush profusely, leading the brunette girl to only question her further, although ultimately getting nowhere in the interrogation. 

Byleth bit her lip as she contemplated whether or not she should knock on his door, before the voice of Sothis made her jump. _Do it or don’t do it! Just make up your mind already!_ The girl yawned as she appeared hovering before her in the hallway. _I’m tired. I want go to back to bed._ Byleth rolled her eyes, hesitating for just a moment, staring at the door as she walked up to it before turning around and opening the door to Jeralt's old office instead.

She slowly crossed the familiar room, the place where she found herself most nights when she couldn't sleep due to her nightmares. She sank down into the chair at his desk, staring at the dust that had begun to gather in the uninhabited room.

"I miss you, Father." She whispered into the empty room, tears forming in her eyes before she blinked and wiped them away. She sighed as her mind turned to one of the last conversations she had had with him in that room, about him wanting to tell her something, something that he never did get to tell her. She wondered if what he wanted to tell her about was the truth of her birth, or if it was something else that was not even written in his journal. She supposed she never would know now. "Why did you have to keep so many damn secrets?" She muttered angrily.

Byleth's eyes flickered back to the closed door of Seteth's office directly across the hallway. _It’s late. He should be in bed by now,_ she thought, wondering what he was doing before she returned her gaze to the top of Jeralt's desk, not thinking of anything in particular as she stared blankly, falling into an all too familiar depressed haze.

On the other side of Seteth's door, the green-haired man stirred, waking from his light slumber. He lifted his head from where it rested on his desk and peeled off a piece of parchment that had gotten stuck to his cheek. Rubbing a hand across the spot, he blinked wearily as he glanced back down at the papers scattered across his desk. He picked up the letter about donations to the church that he had fallen asleep reading, setting it aside before turning back to the letter he had received from Alois about the search for Jeralt’s killer, a search that had evidently been successful. He would have to tell Byleth in the morning.

He sighed as his thoughts turned towards the woman. He had very much enjoyed all the time that they had been spending together since her birthday. They spent some time together on most days, whether it be sharing tea, fishing at the pier, grading papers in her classroom, or dining together with Flayn. There were even some days when she would visit him in his office and keep him company as he did his work, either bringing her own work to do or reading one of the books in his office, lamenting on how boring it (in her mind) undoubtedly was.

The growing affection in his heart was become increasingly harder to ignore, getting to the point where he no longer even tried to push it aside. He still had no intention of ever telling her about his feelings, sure that she would never return them. Still, he couldn’t help but think about how nice it would be to wake up to her soft smile instead of an empty room. 

He shook the thought from his head, chiding himself before he realized that his response to Alois’ letter was the parchment that had gotten stuck to his cheek during his slumber, and now all the letters were smudged and unintelligible. He groaned as he threw the paper away, making a mental note to rewrite it in the morning as he stood up and smoothed down his robes out of habit, before he snuffed out his candle and head out of the door. 

After closing his door and turning away, Seteth was surprised to see Jeralt’s office door was cracked open. Wariness set in as he slowly crept towards it, nudging it open and looking inside. 

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before he saw Byleth sitting there at the desk. He blinked in surprise, wondering what in the world she was doing sitting in there at that hour before his eyes took in the vacant look in her eyes and the dried tear stains on her cheeks.

“Byleth?” Her name was out of his mouth before he could begin to think about the best way to approach her. 

The woman jumped, caught completely off guard as she turned and had to strain her eyes to see Seteth standing in the doorway. 

“Seteth.” She said, the surprise she felt evident in her tone. 

Seteth moved further into the room. “What are you doing in here this late?” 

Byleth shifted nervously, still taken aback by his sudden appearance. She had wanted to go see him when she saw the light in his room, but now that he stood before her she had no idea what to say. As he stepped closer she could see that his green hair was tousled, his circlet slightly askew, and she wondered if he had fallen asleep at his desk. The thought made her concerned for his health while somehow increasing her endearment towards him at the same time. He always worked so hard, sleep was probably his only break and he was even doing that at his desk. 

“I, um...” She cleared her throat, realizing it was partially choked from the tears she had shed earlier. “I was just...taking a walk.” 

Seteth’s eyebrows raised and his eyes narrowed as he no doubt clearly saw through her obvious lie. “You were taking a leisurely stroll in the middle of the night..." He paused, his eyes taking in what she was wearing before he continued, "...wearing nothing but your nightgown?” 

“...Yes?” 

Seteth sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Be honest with me, Byleth. What are you doing here?” 

Now it was Byleth's turn to sigh, though her sigh was in defeat. “I... I had a nightmare.” 

She suddenly felt very vulnerable, sitting there before him with no armor or weapon. She wished she had brought some kind of weapon with her, before realizing what a sight that would have been, the Ashen Demon running across the grounds in her nightgown, wielding the Sword of the Creator like some sort of vengeful ghost. 

Seteth’s face softened as he took in the sight of the woman, shivering in her sleepwear and obviously distressed from whatever horrid image her unconscious mind had decided to torture her with. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

She did want to talk about it, desperately so, but she wasn’t even sure where to begin.

She hesitated, unsure if what she was about to say was forbidden territory or not before asking quietly, “When your wife passed, did you have nightmares?” 

Seteth was surprised at the question, but not offended. They had never talked of his wife much, besides the day at the Rhodos Coast. He slowly sat down in a chair that was in front of the desk. “I did, actually. My wife...fell in battle. Due to a mistake that I made. That mistake haunted me for years, in both my waking and sleeping hours. There are still some nights now when I dream of it.” He couldn’t believe he was admitting such a personal thing to her. There was no way he ever would have imagined having this kind of conversation with Byleth when he had first met her, yet here he was. Actually, now that he thought about it, he had never mentioned this specific fact to anybody before. There was no way he ever would have told Flayn about it, she needed him to be strong. 

Byleth’s heart broke for the man across from her, feeling immensely touched that he shared this with her. “I’m honored that you trust me with this information, Seteth.” 

Seteth only nodded, not knowing how to put into words the feelings that led to him telling her. “Why do you ask, though?”

Byleth shifted again. “I... have nightmares about the day my father died. Almost every night.” She sighed. “Tonight was particularly bad, since...” Her words trailed off as she realized she was about to speak of the Divine Pulse, something nobody knew about, and something she wasn’t ready to reveal just yet.

“Since?” His prompt brought her back to the present.

“Since Sylvain almost fell in battle today.” It was part of the truth, at least. “Whenever a student comes close to falling on the battlefield, the dreams become worse. Before I came here, I didn’t feel anything, but now..." Her breath shuttered. "I’m terrified of losing anybody else.” 

Seteth’s heart ached at the sight of her. While she always looked strong and unfazed, he could now see the wear that Jeralt’s death had truly left on her heart and in her mind. “It is a terrible burden, to carry the weight of the lives of others on your shoulders.” 

She nodded, sniffing as she rapidly blinked her eyes, trying to stop more tears from falling. "Thank you, Seteth."

They sat in silence for a moment as she focused her attention on his face, and she had to stifle a laugh as she realized there was ink on his cheek and before she even realized what she was doing, she was reaching a hand out to wipe it off. 

Seteth froze as her hand lightly touched his cheek, his surprise at the action matching Byleth’s. His heart pounded in his chest, wondering just what the action meant before she hurriedly explained, “There was ink on your cheek.” 

“Ah.” Was all he said, watching silently as she turned her attention back to gently wiping it off with her thumb. Seteth had to fight the urge to grab her hand and hold it in his own when she pulled away. 

Byleth’s cheeks warmed as she was all too aware of his intense gaze on her as she pulled back, hoping that he couldn’t see the color of her cheeks in the dark. She couldn't help but think of how nice it felt to touch his face. Then, Seteth's next words shocked her so much and caused her eyes to widen to a comedic size. 

“Would you like to return to my quarters?” 

They stared at each other in the dark room, Seteth wondering why her eyes were so wide and her cheeks so red. He was merely offering her company as she was unable to sleep, not... 

Seteth’s eyes widened as well as he realized the unintended meaning to his words. Hes cheeks turned a deep shade of red as he began to stutter, “N-no! I-I didn’t mean—that is, it wasn’t my intention to...I didn’t...” 

He sighed, placing his forehead in his palm as he felt the flush on his cheeks reach the pointed ears hidden underneath his hair. “That...sounded awfully more suggestive than I had intended.” He admitted, his tone cautious, as if treading dangerous water. He desperately didn’t want to scare her away, not now that she had felt comfortable enough to open up to him. He cleared his throat, unable to meet her eyes—that is, until his eyes landed on her nightgown, and they quickly shot right back up to her face. “I just thought that maybe you would appreciate company if you were having a hard time falling asleep.” Why was he now speaking in the flat tone he used when giving her the mission her house had for the month? _Damn it,_ _Seteth_ _, you’re blowing it._

Byleth released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. So that was what he meant. Of course, it would be very unlike Seteth to suggest...something else...so out of the blue, especially in the middle of such a deeply honest and personal discussion. She began speaking, her mouth apparently knowing what to say even as her mind reeled to find an appropriate response. “I... would like that, actually.” 

Seteth was shocked, sure he had heard her wrong, or misunderstood her, until she shifted and shivered. Seteth looked at what she was wearing again, beginning to become concerned for her health. “You must be freezing.” He said before he stood, walking around the desk and holding his hand out for her, which she took without hesitation, an action that made his heart skip a beat. "Let's go." 

They left the office hand-in-hand, walking in companionable silence until eventually they arrived at the door to his quarters. Seteth fumbled a bit to unlock his door, feeling nervous once again now that they had arrived. As he opened the door and stepped aside to let Byleth in first, he suddenly felt self-conscious as she began to look around, taking it all in. 

The room was bare of most decorations, containing only the basic necessities: a bed, desk, dresser, and couch. However, covering all of these surfaces were numerous books, papers and pens. There were also a number of bookshelves lining the walls of the room, each one filled to the brim with too many books to count, yet somehow, she didn’t doubt that he had read them all. 

Seteth quickly lit a candle and then set about cleaning up the room to the best of his ability. “Pardon the mess. I usually don’t have visitors in here other than Flayn.” 

The sight of his room made Byleth smile. It fit him so perfectly, she couldn't imagine it any other way.

However, as she stood in the low light of the candle, she became very aware of the uncomfortable feeling of her sweat-soaked nightgown sticking to her back. It must have gotten that way while she was having her nightmare, and she hadn’t noticed it while walking across the cool grounds or when she was spacing out in her father’s office. She would like nothing more in that moment than a change of clothes, and surely it was no harm to ask? “Um... this is uncomfortable, but...” 

Seteth’s head snapped back to her as he was clearing the books off of his bed. He looked back towards the bed, then at her, then back at the bed again before stuttering. “I-I do not intend to sleep next to you, of course, that goes without saying. However, I do insist that you sleep in the bed instead of on the couch.” 

“No, it’s not that.” She hurried to explain, worried that she might have offended him when he had been nothing but kind and hospitable. “It’s just that, my nightgown got covered in sweat and, well...” She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling utterly embarrassed as she had to build up her courage before finishing quickly, “...do you have a spare change of clothes?” 

Seteth blinked at her, his mind trying to process what she had just said. Byleth could almost see the gears turning in his head as he pieced together what she was saying. “Oh! You want... my clothes.” 

Byleth suddenly became aware of just how ridiculously often she was blushing in the man’s presence, something that she never did in the past but was suddenly doing almost all the time with him, and only him. “Well... to put it simply, yes.” 

Seteth blinked again. “Oh. Um, yes, of course.” He turned and began to rifle through his dresser, pulling out two simple tunics and a pair of trousers. He passed one of the tunics to her. “I... think the trousers would be too big for you.” 

“Probably.” She laughed nervously, patting the soft fabric in her hands as she refused to meet his eyes. They stood there in an awkward silence for a few moments before Byleth realized, “We should probably get changed now.” 

“Right.” Seteth agreed, still standing awkwardly for a moment before turning and pacing away. “Feel free to get changed. Let me knew when you are finished.” 

She turned her back to him as well, quickly changing out of her nightgown and into his shirt, which was way too big on her, but comfortably so. It was soft, and smelled of spices, ink and earth, a pleasant smell that was uniquely Seteth’s. 

A small smile curled up her lips. Many men would not resist the temptation of looking at a woman’s form in this kind of situation, but Seteth was a proper gentleman. She had no doubt that he would not give in. 

But she was a mercenary, not a proper lady, she thought as she shot a glance at him over her shoulder, just in time to see him wearing only his breeches and no shirt. For a man who spent so much time doing paperwork at a desk, he was surprisingly fit. She had to remind herself that he was also an experienced wyvern rider, and well-acquainted with the art of the lance. The muscles across his bare back and arms flexed as he reached towards his shirt and pulled it on, much to Byleth’s disappointment. 

_Too bad he doesn’t sleep shirtless._ Byleth was about to chide Sothis for the inappropriate comment before realizing that the thought was entirely her own. 

_Ha!_ Sothis laughed at her in her head. 

Byleth suddenly felt nervous, certain that, now that he was done dressing, Seteth would turn around and catch her ogling him. But he remained facing away from her, taking off his circlet and placing it on his night-side table as she realized he was patiently waiting for her to tell him when it was okay to turn around again.

"Alright, I’m decent.” Her words caused Seteth to turn around, his heart stopping in his chest as he took in the sight of her. 

Decent was one word for it, he thought to himself. There she was, standing bashfully in the middle of his room, in the middle of the night, wearing only his shirt. He suddenly found himself wanting to take her into his arms and— 

_No,_ he cut his own thoughts off sharply. _Stop it. She’s not interested in you, you old fool. More than that, she needs a friend right now, not a lover._ And a friend he would be, even though he so desperately wanted to be more. 

“To bed, then?” He asked, his face immediately flushing at the double meaning behind the words. Byleth gave a small smile and nodded before heading for the bed, and he found his heart pounding at the sight of her in it. It was a hard image to turn away from, and to show self-restrain for as he wanted nothing more than to sweep her up in his arms, lay beside her and hold her close.

Instead he snuffed out the candle and walked towards his couch in the dark, grabbing the blanket he kept for Flayn’s naps off of the back of it.

“Goodnight, Seteth.” Byleth’s voice floated in quietly through the still darkness, a very pleasant thing to hear at the end of the long day.

Seteth smiled fondly, pouring all of his affection for her into that smile, unseen by her in the darkness as he responded just as quietly, “Goodnight, Byleth.” 

* * *

Not more than a few hours later a sound woke Seteth up from his sleep. At first he was confused, wondering why he was sleeping on his couch and not in the comfort of his own bed. Then he remembered what had happened that night with Byleth, and after a moment he realized that the sound that had woken him up was a soft crying coming from the direction of his bed. 

“Byleth?” He asked, concerned as he stood and made his way over to his bed. His eyes strained in the dark room until he could see her, tangled up in the sheets with a look of distress on her face, eyes tightly shut as she struggled in whatever hell her unconscious mind had trapped her in. 

It was a familiar hell to Byleth, a cursed ground underneath her feet that she had walked only once in her living hours, but a thousand times in her dreams. She stood outside the ruined chapel that she could never escape from, the place where her father’s life was taken right before her eyes. But something was different this time. It wasn't Jeralt standing across the grounds from her. It was Seteth. 

Green eyes smiled at her from across the way, but she knew this path, knew this scene all too well. It didn’t matter that it was him instead of Jeralt, the outcome would be the same, it would always be the same, every time. Her mouth opened in a warning, hand reaching for her sword, but it was too late. Blood pooled at the front of dark blue robes as the knife was pulled out of Seteth’s body, and Byleth watched hopelessly as he fell. 

“No!” She cried, hands desperately reaching out as she tried to turn back the hands of time, only to watch him die, again and again, each time more gruesome than the last. Finally, she watched as the knife slit his throat, and his eyes, those beautiful green eyes, went blank as his lifeless body collapsed to the ground. 

That time was too much for her. She could not bear to turn back the hands of time and see it happen again. She ran over to him, a sob emitting from her throat as she knelt down next to his crumpled form. 

“Not you too.” She begged, taking his limp body into her arms and curling around it protectively. “Please... don’t leave me too.” 

She should have told him how she felt. She should have danced with him longer the night of the ball. She should have kissed him that cold, cloudless night by the pier, on her birthday, when he had put that beautiful necklace around her neck. But it was too late now. He was gone, and he would never know how he had changed her heart, made her feel things for him that she would never feel again.

“Byleth.” Seteth’s voice suddenly cut across her cries. She pulled back, shocked, only to find him still cold and dead in her arms. What cruel trick was her mind playing on her? Had she finally gone mad? 

“Byleth.” There was no mistaking that was his voice, but his lips did not move, his lifeless eyes still staring towards the stormy sky. Another sob escaped her as her mind reeled, not understanding what was happening. 

Out of nowhere hands grabbed her shoulders, shaking her, and Byleth finally opened her eyes, the scene before her disappearing as darkness suddenly pressed down on her vision. The weight of Seteth’s body was immediately missing from her arms. 

“Seteth.” She sobbed, reaching out blindly, trying to find his body again, surprised when her hands hit a chest. A living, breathing chest, with a heart beating underneath it.

“I’m here, Byleth.” Seteth’s unmistakable, steady voice reached her ears, and reality washed over Byleth all in one moment. It was only a dream. It was just her usual ghosts haunting her. It was over now. Seteth was alive. 

This truth didn’t stop her from collapsing into his outstretched arms, uncontrollable sobs shaking her body as she clung onto him desperately, unwilling to let go now that she knew he was alive and well. Seteth wrapped his arms around her in return, holding onto her tightly as he brushed back the hair sticking to the front of her face. “It’s okay.” He whispered, his voice right next to her ear, his breath warming her face as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head. “I’m right here. I’m not leaving.”

Seteth sat in the bed, holding her soundly in his arms as his heart broke over and over again each time she sobbed. Over time, though, Byleth’s sobs began to lessen, her breathing starting to even out. Seteth slowly laid back in the bed, bringing her with him, still holding her tightly to his chest. Byleth closed her eyes, feeling emotionally and physically exhausted, listening to the comforting sound of Seteth’s heartbeat under her ear. Right as she began to slowly fall asleep, she felt him speak more than she heard him, feeling the rumble in his chest as he whispered quietly to her again, “I'm not leaving you.” 

* * *

The first thing Byleth realized upon waking was that the room she was in was not her own. At first she was confused, blinking the sleep from her eyes as she looked up at the unfamiliar ceiling. Then her survival instincts kicked in, causing her to sit up suddenly, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she instinctively reached to the side of the bed for the Sword of the Creator but, of course, not finding it there. 

In this movement, though, her eyes locked with sea green ones across the room, and the image of Seteth with a tray of food and tea in his hands broke through the dazed fog in her brain, sending the events of the night before rushing back to her. 

Embarrassment crept up the back of her neck as she vividly remembered how she had cried into his arms, in the poor man’s own bed. She automatically reached up to rub her eyes, only to find them already dry and quite puffy. 

To his credit, Seteth didn’t seem to be annoyed at all. The man truly had the patience of a saint, she thought to herself. 

“I apologize for the toast.” He said casually as he set the tray down on his desk. “The kitchen wasn’t open yet, as it’s just barely early morning. I had to prepare it myself.” 

Byleth stood, still feeling embarrassed as she spoke, "Seteth, I'm...I'm sorry for—"

"Stop." He said curtly. "You have nothing to apologize for. We all have ghosts that haunt us in the night. I just hope that I was able to provide some comfort for you."

_You did_ , she thought to herself, yet she couldn't find the words to say it out loud, or to admit that the ghost that had haunted her was him. Instead she crossed over the room to him, picking up a piece of slightly blackened toast and biting into it, instantly wincing despite herself at the charred flavor. 

Seteth watched anxiously as her faced changed and he also winced at her reaction. “Is it really that bad?” 

Byleth considered trying to lie, but realized that he would probably see right through her anyway. Besides, her wince had been quite noticeable. “It’ll be fine with a little bit of jam.” 

“There, ah, wasn’t any jam.” 

“Oh.” Byleth paused. “Well then, it won’t be fine.” 

She looked up and couldn’t help but giggle at the pensive look on his solemn face. Surely, burnt toast wouldn’t be the end of the world, but she had a feeling any kind of failure was monumental to him. Before she knew what she was doing, she reached a hand up to smooth the line creased between his eyebrows. His eyes flashed in surprise at her touch before they slowly closed, the tension between his brows disappearing beneath her fingers. He sighed softly as she lowered her hand, a sound that made her stomach flip over. 

She busied herself by taking another bite of the toast as Seteth began to pour the tea. “I suppose I should return your shirt to you, though.” She said, coughing a bit as the charred bits refused to go down her throat smoothly. She nodded thankfully as Seteth passed her a cup of tea, and she was pleasantly surprised to find that the flavor was Crescent-Moon once again. 

“Keep it.” Seteth replied smoothly, causing her to look at him in surprise. He smiled shyly as he continued, “It looks far better on you anyway.” 

She returned his shy smile with her own, her stomach flipping again as their eyes met over cups of tea.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment before something caught Seteth’s eyes. He reached forward and gently grasped the charm on the necklace that dangled around her neck. His necklace.

“You’re wearing it.” He spoke in perhaps the softest tone she had ever heard from him, his eyes showing disbelief as he held the small sword between his fingers, watching as the emerald glinted up at him in the early morning light.

“Of course I am.” She replied, genuinely confused about his disbelief. Did he really think she wouldn't wear it? It was a beautiful necklace, and the fact that it was a present for him made her love it even more.

His eyes flicked up to meet hers, a look she hadn’t seen before, something warm and hopeful and... something else she couldn’t name residing in those ocean green depths. 

“I meant what I said last night, Byleth." He said, suddenly serious as determination joined the other look that was in his eyes. "I will not leave you. I am here for you. Always.” 

She didn’t need a beating heart to let her know how she felt for him, especially as a light, weightless feeling soared in her chest. A feeling she only ever felt when she was with him. 

It was suddenly terrifying, especially now that she knew the name for that feeling. She was so afraid of losing him. There was no way to know if a battle would end up poorly. One of them could die at any moment. Hell, a war could break out for all they knew. Or he could simply change his mind and walk away from her. Her fears and ghosts followed her every step towards Seteth. 

But for once, as she looked into that warm hope in his eyes, and felt it creep into her own heart, she let go of those fears and ghosts. She took a step closer to him, reaching her hand out to rest against his chest, feeling his heart begin to pick up underneath it. There they stood in a newfound warmth, next to their plates of burnt toast, a hope and intimacy blooming between them in that ultraviolet light of that Sunday morning.

One step, not much. But it said enough.

* * *

**Morning, his place,**

**Burnt toast, Sunday.**

**You keep his shirt,**

**He keeps his word.**

**And for once you let go,**

**Of your fears and your ghosts.**

**One step, not much,**

**But it said enough.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only took about 4,500 words to get to the part that's actually based off of the lyrics LOL. I'm quickly realizing this is becoming its own cohesive fic versus a bunch of unrelated drabbles. I just felt that it was important to build up what Byleth's ghosts and fears were before getting to the fluffiness. Also what do they even call Sundays in the Fire Emblem universe?   
> Anyway! Thank you all for your continued support, it really means a lot, and I'm glad you are enjoying this fic as much as I'm enjoying writing it.


	4. This Love Came Back to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did somebody say ANGST?!

Seteth grunted as he kicked the limp body off of the end of his lance, his mind still reeling from the current state of events as he stood on the bloodstained battlefield beneath the monastery. How had they gotten to this state? It felt like just the day before everything was fine; affairs at the monastery were running smoothly, Flayn was safe and sound, and he was laughing with Byleth while taking tea in his office. But that gentle peace and happiness had been shattered with the reveal that Edelgard was the Flame Emperor, and now they were standing on the brink of war against the Empire itself. 

He turned then, eyes searching wildly for blue hair before he had to remind himself that it wasn’t blue anymore, but green. His eyes skimmed over the students and Knights of Seiros fighting in defense of the monastery until he finally found her standing over a felled enemy, the Sword of the Creator glowing in her hands. 

He automatically began to move towards her, stopping only to slay another enemy before calling out to her, “Byleth!” 

Byleth turned at the sound of her name, locking eyes with Seteth across the battlefront as soldiers on both sides fought and died between them. She opened her mouth to respond when a flash of movement just to the side of him caused her stomach to drop. She quickly extended her sword, adrenaline coursing through her as she sent it forward and struck down an enemy that had been quickly advancing on his side. 

Seteth was caught off-guard as the tip of the Sword of Creator whipped right past his face and pierced an enemy that he hadn’t seen. He quickly finished the man off with his lance, chastising himself for not paying better attention to what was going on around him before he finally caught up to Byleth. 

“Thank you.” He breathed once he was standing at her side. 

Byleth only nodded in response before looking back at the carnage around them. She stood silently, her eyes taking in the sight of the bloody battlefield, her mind running through possible tactics along with statistics for their chance of survival. 

“Byleth, we need to retreat.” Seteth’s voice was urgent as he spoke. He sounded more out of control and fearful than she had ever heard him, something that spiked fear in her own heart. She had reached the same conclusion he had, but right as she was opening her mouth to agree to call the retreat, her eyes landed on the dragon that Lady Rhea had transformed into. The dragon that was currently being attacked by a swarm of demonic beasts. 

The dragon that was dying. 

Seteth watched as Byleth’s eyes widened and she suddenly began to move forward, causing him to quickly grab onto her arm to stop her. “Byleth! What are you doing?” 

“Lady Rhea is in trouble.” 

Seteth turned to look at the struggling dragon before turning back to the woman at his side. He could see the self-sacrifice creeping into her eyes, a look which caused his grip on her arm to tighten. He couldn’t bear to lose her, not now, not after going to sleep and waking up with her in his arms, not after realizing that he wanted to spend all of his mornings and midnights with her. He could hear the fear that he felt for her life creeping into his voice as he spoke, “There is nothing we can do for her. She knew the risk she was taking. We must leave, now.” 

Byleth turned away from Rhea to look back at him, a somber look in her eyes that suddenly made her seem much older than she really was. “Seteth.” She said quietly, her eyes searching his. “Remember what you told me that morning?” 

A host of words unspoken and risks not taken seemed to pass between them in an instant. He didn’t have to ask what she meant as he knew instantly what she was referring to. He could still taste the tea and burnt toast, could still see her standing there before him in his room wearing his shirt and necklace, with that soft smile on her face reserved only for him. How could things have gone so wrong that they were now standing where they were? 

“Of course.” His hand loosened around her arm and he took her hand instead as he looked deeply into her eyes, imploring her to understand the underlying meaning of the words he had spoken that morning. He hoped she would also understand the words that he didn't say, the words that he was too afraid to say. He poured all the emotion that he had grown to feel for her into the look they shared as he said earnestly, “I meant what I said. I’m not leaving.” 

She smiled, another smile that was just for him, but this one was so much sadder. “I know.” She whispered as she leaned forward, and his breath hitched in his throat as her lips just barely brushed over his cheek. When she pulled back to look at him again, there were tears in her eyes. “But I am.” 

Before Seteth could do anything, Byleth’s hand slipped out of his grip. Her eyes were still locked with his, a thousand heartbreaks and apologies dancing in her unshed tears before she finally broke their gaze and turned fully to run away. He started to move after her before a yelp caught his attention, and as he turned to the source of the sound he saw his daughter currently being attacked by a soldier of the Empire.

“Flayn!” He shouted, Byleth momentarily forgotten as he ran as quickly as he could to Flayn's side. He killed her assailant with one fluid motion before grabbing her by her arms and bringing her to face him, fear for his daughter’s life pumping adrenaline through his veins as he asked, “Flayn, are you alright?” 

“Y-yes, I’m fine.” She looked up at him, an unbridled fear in her eyes. “Brother, they won’t stop coming! What do we do?” 

Seteth searched around them, looking for somebody he could rely on until he finally found someone. “Dimitri!” 

The heir to the Kingdom throne turned, quickly taking down an enemy with his own lance before running up to them. “Spread the order to retreat.” Seteth commanded, gently passing Flayn over to him as he continued, “And I need you to escort Flayn safely out of here.” 

Dimitri nodded seriously as he carefully took Flayn’s arm. “I understand.” His eyebrows furrowed as he searched behind Seteth, worry creeping into his eyes. “But where’s the professor?” 

Seteth swore. He had completely forgotten about Byleth in the rush of trying to save his daughter. "Let me worry about the professor. Leave, now!” 

Worry was an understatement for what he was feeling at that moment. His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest as he ran across the field, searching wildly for her as he stepped over the broken bodies that littered the ground, slaying any enemies that stood in his path towards her. Finally, he found her as she knocked the demonic beasts off of Lady Rhea’s dragon form. He stopped running as Rhea turned to speak to Byleth, breathing a sigh of relief as the danger seemed to pass. 

But the danger had not passed.

Seteth would never forget how his heart seemed to stop altogether when the mage appeared. He would never forget how time itself seemed to slow as the ground crumbled and collapsed underneath Byleth’s feet, how her face twisted into a look of sheer horror, how her soul-crushing screams echoed in the air around her as she fell out of sight. 

He could barely register his own screams as he ran to where his wyvern was and mounted it, desperately urging the beast to fly as fast as it could to the spot where Byleth had been standing, the spot where she had _just_ been standing, alive and perfectly fine and no, no, there was no way she was dead, there was no way. He had just spoken to her, he had just held her hand in his. They had just been dancing together in that dark tower, he had just given her a necklace on the starry night of her birthday, she had just been wearing it that early morning in his room when she smiled brightly even as she ate his awful, burnt toast. He could still reach her. It wasn’t too late. She couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t be. 

He landed next to where she had disappeared, dismounting his wyvern and rushing to look over the edge, hoping against all hope to see her there, okay and still alive somehow, but he saw nothing but the unfathomable depths below. 

“No...” He whispered, his voice hoarse. The world began to blur, and he didn’t understand why until he blinked and the blurriness disappeared, leading him to realize that there were tears in his eyes. The next realization hit him all at once and was almost too much to bear.

He loved her. Heavens above, he loved her so much. He had to tell her, she had to know. He had done nothing but act like a complete self-entitled jerk the first half of time he had known her, and the second half of time all he had done in her presence was smile and laugh and do nothing else, like a coward. He had always held back from telling her how he really felt, always afraid of the worst, afraid of losing her just like he had lost his wife. 

And now, the worst had happened. 

And she didn’t even know. 

His mind replayed how she had smiled sadly at him and kissed his cheek as her hand slipped out of his and she left him standing there all alone. His heart shattered for the second time in his life as he finally realized that she was gone, that she would now only be another ghost that would haunt him in his dreams. 

He fell to his knees, his voice raw as he shouted into the empty air, “No! Byleth!” 

“Cichol...” The sound of Rhea speaking his true name caused Seteth to whirl around, a sudden unexplainable anger and hatred replacing his grief as faced her. 

“You could have gone after her! You could have saved her! Why didn’t you?!” 

Rhea didn’t respond to his question, a look of sadness in her dragon eyes that made his blood boil even more as she spoke, “Cichol, Cethleann needs you.” 

And with that she had said the only thing that could manage to break him out of his shocked grief. He turned and searched the battlefield until he found Flayn, currently being protected by Dimitri as she healed a visibly injured Felix. 

Seteth turned back to Rhea, still shaking with rage as he mustered all the venom he could manage into his voice as he spat, “You have lost all my faith in you, Lady Rhea.” 

He then mounted his wyvern again, flying back to the most important thing in his life as he tried to ignore the aching pain in his heart from losing the second woman he had ever allowed himself to love. 

* * *

The next five years passed achingly slowly for Seteth. If it wasn’t for Flayn and the war Fódlan now found itself in, he was sure he would have fallen into a deep depression that he may not have been able to pull himself out of. 

Each day he waited for news on the location of Byleth from the Knights of Seiros. Each night his dreams were haunted by the image of her falling to those cursed depths below, over and over again. On nights that he wasn’t sure were better or worse, he dreamed of her lying in his arms, her warmth seeping into his bones as she smiled at him through the darkness, safe and sound. Yet he always woke up to the cruel reality of a cold, empty space besides him. 

On sadistic days, he wished that he had never let her into his heart. If he hadn’t followed her the night of the ball, if he hadn’t spent that day off shopping for that necklace, if only he had left her cold and shaking in Jeralt’s office that one night, maybe it would have been different. If he didn’t know how nice it felt to hold her in his arms, maybe then it wouldn’t have hurt so much when she slipped out of his reach. 

But he knew those wishes were futile. When he remembered the look in her eyes as she stood before him in her nightgown, how she wept his name while her mind tortured her in her sleep, how she smiled at him the next morning with his necklace hanging around her neck, he knew that he had no regrets. If given the chance to turn back the hands of time, to try and change his fate of falling for her, he wouldn’t change a thing. 

He sighed as he shuffled through the many reports scattered across his desk from different Knights of Seiros, trying to find something to distract himself from thinking of Byleth once again. His attempt was in vain, though, as he found himself zoning out while reading a report on troop movements in the Alliance, his eyes fixated on the empty seat in his temporary office as a memory flashed through his mind. 

_Byleth_ _sat upside down on the couch in his office, gravity causing her newly colored mint green hair to fall to the ground as she sighed loudly. "I’m bored.”_

_Seteth_ _grabbed another page as he continued to write his letter. “Not my problem.” She sighed again, louder this time, and_ _Seteth_ _struggled not to roll his eyes as he continued, "Don’t you have essays to grade or something?”_

_Byleth_ _easily flipped over so she was standing in the middle of the room, shrugging at his words as she replied, "Or something.”_

_Seteth d_ _utifully ignored her as he focused on writing his response. He was so focused that he didn’t even notice_ _Byleth_ _slowly creeping up on him until she was looking over his shoulder, her face right next to his as she asked, “What are you doing?”_

_Seteth_ _swore as he jumped, caught completely off-guard by how close she was to him. He tried to ignore the burning in his cheeks, telling himself it was due to embarrassment from being surprised and not because of their sudden close proximity. He felt his face flush more, though, as he noticed the necklace dangling right in front of his eyes. It was a pleasant sight that he never seemed to get used to._

_Byleth_ _raised an eyebrow inquisitively at him and he realized that he had been staring at her without saying anything. He cleared his throat, trying to remember her original question before stuttering, “I-I was just working on a letter concerning a recent donation.”_

_Byleth_ _leaned back on the balls of her feet, considering for a moment before leaping forward and snatching the letter off of his desk._

_“What—Professor!”_

_Byleth_ _danced away easily as she gave him a look, fingers playing with her necklace as she replied teasingly, “Still calling me Professor, are we?”_

_Seteth_ _blushed again at the borderline flirty tone that she was using before closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. “Byleth, would you please give me back my letter?”_

_“Hmm...nope!”_

_Seteth_ _groaned. “Byleth—”_

_“Dear Fancy Name, the church would like to thank you for your recent donation. Rest assured the archbishop will know of your generous contribution, blah blah blah...” She paused in reading the letter and turned to look at him, looking almost affronted as she told him, “Seteth. This is boring!”_

_“Most of my work is.” He walked forward, holding his hand out expectantly. “Now will you please give it back?”_

_A wicked smile played across her face, a look_ _Seteth_ _had never seen before that made his stomach flip. “I don’t think I will.” She replied easily, continuing to dance out of his reach as he attempted to take the papers back._

_“For the love of—Byleth!”_

_For the rest of the afternoon_ _Byleth_ _continued to dangle the papers just out of his reach, playing cat and mouse with him until he finally caught up to her. His arms wrapped around her to trap her as he grabbed the papers back and they laughed together, untroubled and totally unaware of what the future had in store for them._

“Brother?” The voice of Flayn snapped Seteth out of his recollection of the precious memory. He turned away from staring at the empty seat, a seat where Byleth should have been sitting, and quickly busied himself with organizing the papers on his desk. 

“Yes, Flayn? What is it?” His voice came out curter than he had intended as he tried to keep the sadness he felt so often from showing on his face. 

Flayn was quiet as she moved further into the room, carefully examining the sorrowful look that her father was trying to cover up. He must have been thinking of Byleth again. It hadn’t escaped her attention, or anybody’s for that matter, how those two had looked at each other. Flayn had been overjoyed at the prospect of her father finding somebody who made him happy again, something that Byleth obviously did. As Byleth and Seteth became closer, everybody noticed how both of them began to smile more. Flayn hadn’t seen that kind of smile on her father’s face since her mother had passed away. 

Byleth’s disappearance and probable death had been hard on everyone, but especially so on her father. Flayn could only stand by and watch as he seemed to age far more than just five years. 

Flayn reached his desk and placed down the letter she was carrying. “A letter from Gilbert just arrived.” 

Seteth's eyebrows furrowed as he began to open the envelope inscribed with his name. He had received an update from the man not a few days before. What had happened that would warrant another letter so soon? 

“Brother, about what we were talking about before...” 

Seteth sighed wearily. “For the last time, Flayn, the answer is no. The monastery is nothing but a den of thieves and criminals now. None of your friends will be gathering there for the anniversary.” 

“But what if the professor—” 

Seteth looked up sharply from the letter, a harsh look in his eyes that always appeared whenever Byleth was mentioned. “The professor will not be there either. The Knights have had no luck in their search for five years, for her to show her face now would be...” 

His words trailed off as he looked down at the letter in his hands and started to read what was written. His eyes locked on to the first sentence in particular, reading it over and over as it refused to sink in. 

_Dear Seteth,_

_Byleth is alive._

Byleth was alive. Byleth was alive. Seteth couldn’t think of anything other than those words. His mind reeled from the information, unable to believe it as his heart began to pound in his chest. 

“Brother?” Flayn’s voice broke through his stunned haze. “What’s wrong?” 

Seteth realized that he had stood up at some point while he was reading the sentence over and over. He looked up from the letter at his daughter’s confused and concerned face as a hope that he hadn’t felt in years began to bloom in his chest. 

“Pack your things. We’re going to the monastery.” 

* * *

Byleth sighed in content as she sunk down further into the bath, watching the steam rise from the top of the heated water. She felt so much better as she soaked in the bathtub and five years of grime and muck dissipated from her body. 

Her mind replayed the events of the last twenty-four hours. She had awoken, coughing and sputtering on the edge of a river next to a complete stranger who proceeded to inform her that five years had passed since the monastery had fallen. 

Five years. Byleth didn’t believe it until she walked the destroyed hallways of Garreg Mach. She didn’t believe it until she found the broken, beaten shell of Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, a sight that confirmed to her that five years had indeed passed. Five whole years had come and gone as she laid motionless in a slowly drifting river that didn’t bring her to those who needed her in time. 

A heavy guilt sat in her chest as she remembered Dimitri’s cruel intent on bloody revenge towards Edelgard and the Empire. Watching him as he mindlessly slaughtered the petty thieves in the village below the monastery had sent chills down her spine. If only she hadn’t been passed out for five damn years, maybe she could have helped him. Maybe she could have guided him down a better path. But she had failed him. She had failed all of them. 

She stood from her bath, drying herself off and glancing begrudgingly towards the corner of her room where her outfit was still soaked in river gunk. Instead she crossed to her dresser, pleasantly surprised to find it untouched after all those years. She rifled through clothes until her hands brushed over an achingly familiar shirt that was much too big for her, causing a memory to flash through her mind. 

_“K_ _eep i_ _t. It looks far better on you anyway.”_

Seteth’s green eyes remained fixed in her mind as she reached up and clasped the sword charm on the necklace around her neck. She was incredibly thankful that it had stayed on through five years of floating down a river. 

He had been the first thing she thought of upon waking. She vividly remembered the look of horror in his eyes as she slipped out of his hands and ran away. She felt terrible for doing it, but there was no way she was going to just leave Lady Rhea to die when she could do something to try and save her. 

Of all the people she had come to care for, of all of her students and colleagues, she was most afraid to hear of his fate. She was terrified of the prospect of waking up in a world that he was no longer in, and especially afraid of the idea that he had left that world while she wasn’t even conscious. 

Upon meeting Gilbert and learning from him that Seteth was alive and well, she nearly collapsed to her knees with relief. Apparently, he was currently with Flayn in a small village nearby the monastery in Kingdom territory. She was incredibly relieved to hear that they were together and safe. She idly wondered if Seteth had missed her while she was gone before she shook the selfish thought from her mind. He was probably largely concerned with the war more than anything else. 

A knock on her door brought her mind back to the present. “Professor?” The soft voice of Mercedes came from the other side. 

“Hold on just a moment!” Byleth looked at Seteth’s shirt once more before pulling it on along with her Blue Lions athletic shorts. She stood and crossed room, drying her wet hair before placing the towel aside and opening the door. “Yes, Mercedes?” 

The blonde girl smiled at her once the door was open. “We’re all meeting in the classroom and we were wondering if you wanted to join us.” 

Byleth smiled back at her former student. Mercedes had always been very sweet and surprisingly perceptive of those around her. “I would love to join you all.”

Mercedes beamed in response. “Fantastic!” She looped her arm through Byleth’s as she began to steer her away from the dorms and towards the classrooms. “We’re so glad to have you back, Professor.” 

Byleth's smile grew. “I’m glad to be back.” 

As soon as they entered the classroom, Byleth’s sight was obscured by a mass of orange hair as Annette threw herself forward and hugged Byleth. 

“Professor! We’re so happy you’re okay!” Byleth returned the hug as Annette’s body began to shake as she started to cry. “We-we thought you were de-dead.” 

Byleth patted Annette’s back, her heart breaking a bit as she looked over the girl’s shoulder at her other students all gathered around and smiling at her. “I’m sorry I left you all for so long.” 

Ashe shook his head. “Don’t be, it’s not your fault. We’re just glad you’re back.” 

Annette stepped back, wiping her red eyes as Felix spoke next. “Yes, don’t apologize. Just help us win this war.” 

Byleth looked at her students, suddenly struck by an odd sense of surrealism. To her, it was just the day before when she taught them in that classroom, yet here they were, five years older, in the same room that hadn’t changed a bit. _She_ had not changed a bit. That same sense of guilt she had felt earlier crept into her chest again as she realized just how much they had needed her, but she wasn’t there for them. 

She nodded at Felix, a new determination settling in her bones as she swore, “I will.” 

Over the next few hours she learned about what each of her students had been up to in the past five years that she was gone. She leaned back against her dusty desk as she watched them all laugh at a joke that Sylvain had made, the same surreal feeling setting in again as they reminisced about old school days that she herself had just experienced. 

Ingrid was in the middle of telling a story when all of a sudden the doors to the classroom flew open. Byleth turned to see, standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the moonlight, the only man to ever capture her unbeating heart. 

Seteth stood deathly still, his eyes not believing what he was seeing before him. There, in the old Blue Lions classroom, was Byleth, the eyes he had seen so often in his dreams piercing into his very soul. His throat felt dry, and he was unable to find the words to speak until he finally managed to simply say, “Professor.” 

Byleth nodded back, feeling disappointed at the emotionless look on his face. He seemed utterly uncaring for her presence in that moment. She didn’t know what, exactly, she was expecting when she saw him again, but it was not this unfeeling reunion, that was for sure. Not after all the moments that they had shared together. 

“Professor!” Flayn burst out from underneath Seteth’s arms, which were still outstretched and placed against each of the doors. Byleth smiled as the shorter girl flung herself into her teacher’s arms. 

“Flayn!” Byleth returned her hug. “I’m so glad you’re alright.” 

“I should be saying that to you!” Flayn responded. Byleth watched over her shoulder as Seteth turned on his heel and left the room without a word. Byleth felt part of her heart shatter at the sight of his back as he walked away. 

Flayn let go of the hug, turning to watch him leave as well. “Don’t mind him. I believe he is simply in shock. He has mourned you greatly over the past five years, fearing you were gone to us forever. You should have seen his face when he received the news of your return. I have never seen him throw everything to the side and rush to somebody so quickly. At least not since...” 

Flayn’s words trailed off, and Byleth’s eyes widened as she realized where they had been heading. “Really?” Byleth asked, comparing the image of Seteth Flayn had painted in her mind to the Seteth that had just walked out. 

“Yes, really.” Flayn nodded emphatically. She nudged Byleth softly. “You should go speak with him.” 

Byleth hesitated before nodding at Flayn’s suggestion and heading out of the classroom, bidding her students goodbye for the moment. She was afraid to learn that Seteth no longer cared for her, afraid that he hated her after she had left him alone. She so badly wanted him to look at her the way that he used to, with that look of warmth, fondness and some other unnamed emotion that she had never figured out. 

She soon realized, though, that she had no idea where she was going. Her first thought about where he might be was the cathedral, or his office, but then she remembered how he had talked about fishing during one of their midnight teas. He said the activity calmed him down when nothing else managed to. She highly doubted he was fishing now, but the pier sprung to her mind as a possible location, so that’s where she went first. 

And sure enough, standing at the edge of the dock, gazing out at the still water, was Seteth. Byleth subconsciously held her breath as she approached him from behind, afraid that she was going to disturb or startle him. 

Seteth heard footsteps and turned to see the woman who had haunted both his waking hours and his dreams for the past five years. He stared at her, not able to believe that she was actually there, alive and in front of him. Of all the days for her to surface, for her to show up on the one when she had promised her students a reunion seemed too good to be true. 

“Seteth...” Byleth started as she walked forward a few steps and then stopped, not knowing what to do or say now that she was in front of him. 

Seteth shook his head as she spoke his name, closing his eyes as he sucked in a breath. “This isn’t real.” He continued to shake his head as he opened his eyes, unwilling to let himself believe that she was alive, not when he had dreamed of her alive so many times only to wake up to a cold reality where she wasn’t there. “You’re not real.” 

“Seteth—” His hands shook as she spoke his name again. That sounded so much like her voice. Had she always sounded so realistic in his dreams? 

“No, I will not fall for this again.” He said staunchly, closing his eyes again as he clenched his shaking hands.

Byleth walked forward until she was standing in front of him. She placed a hand of the side of his face, gently urging him to look at her, her heart breaking as he did so and she saw the most raw form of sorrow that she had ever seen resting in his eyes. “Seteth.” She said quietly but firmly, trying to cement him and ground him to the moment. 

His eyes shook as he drunk her in. If this was a dream he could at least memorize her features as much as he could before he woke again. He had never dreamed of her in such astonishing detail before. 

“I have had this dream far too many times.” He whispered, his breath shuttering as she placed her other hand on his other cheek. Her hands felt so _real._ Had they always felt that real? “And you’re never there when I wake.” 

Tears filled her eyes as she realized just how much her disappearance had broken his heart, much more than she ever expected it would. “I’m here, Seteth. This isn’t a dream.” 

He brought a hand up and held onto one of the hands that was on his face, leaning into the touch before he leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. If this was a dream, he could at least enjoy it before he woke. Perhaps he could even get away with a kiss. 

When he opened his eyes, though, it wasn’t her lips that instantly caught his eye, but a glint of metal around her neck. A simple silver chain with a sword hung there, an emerald embedded in the hilt that twinkled up at him. 

His necklace. 

He paused, raking through his brain for a time when he had dreamed of the necklace, but coming up empty. Even when he _had_ dreamed of the memory of her birthday, or of the morning after he comforted her, the necklace was always a blurry detail. It never shone like it did right then.

He reached a shaking hand out to touch the necklace, expecting to wake up at any second to an empty bed once again, but instead his hand touched cold metal along with her warm skin underneath. He looked back up at her, eyes wide as he truly saw her for the first time that night. For the first time in five years. It was too good to be true, to be real. But here she was. 

“Byleth.” He breathed her name, bringing his trembling hand up to cup her beautiful face. She looked exactly the same; she had not aged a day, but then again, he probably didn’t look like he had aged either. He absentmindedly wiped a tear that had fallen down her cheek, a motion which she mimicked with her own hand on his face, and he realized that he was crying as well. “Byleth, you’re alive.” 

She smiled tearily. “I am.” 

He pulled her forward, wrapping his arms around her and crushing her in his embrace. He buried his face in hair, breathing in her scent that had become so soothing at some point, something that he never thought he would experience again. His voice shook as he spoke, “I thought you were dead.” 

Her grip tightened around him as she buried her face in his chest. “I’m so sorry, Seteth. I didn’t want to leave.” 

He heaved a deep, heavy sigh, pouring five years of grief and sorrow into the sound before he smiled, truly smiled for the first time in years. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “It’s okay. Just don’t leave again.” 

“I won’t. I promise.” 

He held onto her tighter, his hands brushing over the fabric of the shirt that she was wearing, a familiar fabric that made him open his eyes and look at her again. 

“Are you...” He stopped, blinking. “Are you wearing my shirt?” 

Her cheeks began to turn what he thought was a beautiful shade of red as she mumbled, “Oh, um, yes. My clothes were covered in river grime, and, well...” She looked down as she kicked the ground a bit. “I found it and I wanted to wear it. It reminded me of you.” 

His heart swelled with a feeling like pride as he took her face in both her hands and kissed her on the forehead, happiness bursting in his chest as he smiled down at her. “It still looks better on you than it ever did on me.” 

She smiled bashfully back up at him and laughed softly, causing his smile to grow even more as he pulled her back into her arms and hugged her once more. 

She was here with him, alive back from the dead, safe and sound. With his own hands he had let her go free, and she had come back to him. He didn’t know it yet, but she would always come back every time that she left. 

Always. 

* * *

**Your kiss, my cheek, I watched you leave,**

**Your smile, my ghost, I fell to my knees,**

**When you’re young you just run,**

**But you come back to what you need.**

**This love is good, this love is bad,**

**This love is alive back from the dead,**

**These hands and to let it go free and,**

**This love came back to me.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I broke the rules of this chapter, the lyrics aren't from You Are In Love, instead they are from This Love, also by Taylor Swift. I felt like the song fit really well for what Seteth would have been going through after she disappears and I just really wanted to write a filler chapter about Byleth leaving and coming back, because the next chapter takes place post-timeskip and it felt like too much whiplash to just jump past what would have happened in between. I hope you guys enjoyed and thanks so much for your continued support! :)


End file.
